Bonkers

by Michelle Holman

  With his long legs it was child’s play to catch up with her.

  She hopped on doggedly, shouting over her shoulder. ‘My name is Lisa, not Linda! Bugger off!’

  Once he’d caught up with her, Dan remembered to click the electronic locking device in the direction of the Diamante and walked along behind her, his hands in the pockets of his suit jacket. He was feeling furious that he hadn’t seen it coming.

  It was just like Linda to throw a tantrum to deflect attention from her earlier behaviour. However, Dan couldn’t ignore the desperate note in her voice and the damp patch beginning to appear on the blue muslin shirt between her shoulder blades. She was finding the effort of hopping down the road extremely hard, but showed no sign of giving up. In the past, Linda had always made sure that when she pulled one of her drama-queen stunts she continued to look as lovely as ever.

  Dan was torn between confusion, concern and finally amusement.

  ‘Bugger off?’ he asked as he strolled behind her, trying hard not to laugh at the sight of his oh-so-elegant wife, hopping along one of the busiest streets of Auckland city, clutching at shop fronts for support and swearing a blue streak. ‘That’s a new one. It’s always been “fuck off” in the past.’

  Lisa paused to glare at him through her fringe as she clung doggedly to the front of a shop and snarled, ‘It can be in the present, too, if you push your luck, smart-arse!’

  People rushing past were eyeing them curiously.

  ‘Are you alright, love?’ an older woman paused to ask Lisa uncertainly, keeping a wary eye on Dan.

  ‘No!’ Lisa howled and pointed at Dan. ‘He’s following me!’

  ‘Oh dear,’ the woman said, fidgeting from one foot to the other, a bag of shopping weighing down each hand. She looked about hopefully, as if expecting a police officer to materialize.

  ‘I’m her husband.’ Dan said.

  ‘He is not!’ Lisa cried.

  ‘Linda.’ Dan sighed and shook his head, beginning to enjoy himself.

  ‘My name is not Linda!’ Lisa yelled.

  The woman flinched, looking swiftly between the two of them. Plonking one of the shopping bags down she fished her mobile phone out of her handbag and announced, ‘I’m calling the police.’ She peered at the tiny instrument, tilting it this way and that in an effort to see the screen and muttering, ‘Oh, this thing!’

  ‘If you push the red button, the console will light up,’ Dan suggested helpfully.

  Lisa glared at him. How dare he be so cavalier about this?

  By now a small crowd of onlookers had gathered to watch.

  ‘This thing is a waste of time,’ Lisa’s would-be rescuer complained. ‘The kids insisted on buying it for me last Christmas, but I can’t get the hang of it.’ She jabbed at several buttons. ‘I can’t even see a red button.’

  Dan leaned closer and pointed.

  ‘Oh!’ She beamed at him when the small screen lit up and then frowned. ‘What’s that?’

  He tilted his head to look. ‘You have two messages.’

  ‘I have?’

  Lisa was shaking her head in disbelief. ‘I’m still not coming home with you.’

  ‘Fine.’ He shrugged and went to lean against a nearby window. ‘But you’ll have a long wait for the police. They’re pretty busy on a Friday night.’

  ‘How do you know?’ the woman asked suspiciously.

  He nodded in the direction of Grafton Bridge and the hospital. ‘I’m a surgeon at the hospital. I deal with the police a lot.’

  She paused uncertainly, index finger poised above the keypad of the phone. ‘You’re a doctor?’

  Dan nodded.

  Lisa watched in amazement as the woman began to put her phone away. So what if he was a bloody doctor?

  ‘I know you,’ a man spoke up from amongst the growing audience. ‘You operated on my granddaughter’s arm last year when she fell off the trampoline. You’re Dr Dan, aren’t you?’

  ‘My sister’s waiting for a hip replacement,’ the woman with the mobile phone told Dan. ‘She’s been on the waiting list for ages.’

  Lisa watched in disbelief as Dan proceeded to have a chat about the progress of the man’s granddaughter since her operation and the terrible length of time patients spent on hospital waiting lists.

  She was exhausted from her frenzied hop down K Road. She felt stupid and ungrateful. Dan didn’t deserve to be treated like this; the situation wasn’t easy for him. But it wasn’t for her either. And he needn’t look so bloody relaxed about it.

  Using the window of the shop for support, she struggled upright and after getting her balance, began to hop back in the direction of the car.

  Dan snapped to attention. ‘Where’re you going, Linda?’

  ‘To fly a kite! Where the…fuck does it look like I’m going? And stop calling me Linda!’ she shouted.

  ‘Ooh!’ The lady who had started off as Lisa’s champion sent her a look of disapproval as she hopped by. ‘There’s no need for language!’

  Grandad gave Dan a sympathetic look. ‘Looks like you have your hands full there, mate.’

  Lisa felt like she was going to cry again. Fighting back tears, she struggled on valiantly for a few more metres before collapsing against a streetlight, panting, vaguely aware Dan was bidding the other members of their impromptu get-together goodnight. She didn’t look up when he reached her side. Instead she hugged the cold metal lamppost and watched the cars rushing past filled with people on their way out to enjoy Friday night and the beginning of their weekend.

  ‘Linda?’

  Lisa stiffened. From the corner of her eye, she saw Dan raise his hands in surrender.

  ‘OK. Lisa, then.’

  Well, it was a start.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m sorry I upset you.’

  She pressed her cheek against the cold metal post and sighed. ‘I’m sorry you had to chase me.’

  Dan looked at her drooping figure, his brow wrinkled with concern. ‘Are you OK? Can you make it back to the car?’

  Lisa looked along the street to where the Diamante was inexpertly parked on the side of the road, looking exactly like a car that had been abandoned in a hurry. ‘Oh!’ she cried in alarm, straightening abruptly. ‘We’d better get back before somebody comes around the corner too fast and hits it.’

  Dan was surprised by her concern for his car. ‘You look beat. Do you want me to carry you?’ he asked, mindful of the strongly independent streak she had displayed so far. ‘Just this once? It’ll be a lot faster.’

  She nodded wearily. ‘OK.’

  Crouching, he lifted her easily into his arms and set off in the direction of the Diamante. Lisa sighed deeply and tucked her face against his neck, feeling the stubble from his chin against her cheek and the steady thump of his heart beneath her right breast. She felt him stiffen as she snuggled against him, but decided to ignore it. Right now she needed this. She needed him. The warmth of his big body and the faint scent of the spicy aftershave he wore calmed her. At that moment, she greatly appreciated he was a person who was comfortable with silence. All the fight had gone out of her. She knew she’d behaved ridiculously. Dan Brogan might be a stranger, but at the moment he was all she had.

  10

  Lisa couldn’t decide if she were happy or sad that Dan didn’t drive through Browns Bay to get to his home. If he had, he would have driven through the roundabout where the accident had occurred and past her parents’ house. Lisa knew she would have lost it.

  She could picture exactly what the house would look like right now. The lights would be on in the lounge, and her brother Ben’s ute would be parked in the driveway. The Jackson family always gathered together on the night of a Blues match to share a few beers, eat potato chips and argue about the referee’s calls and who should or shouldn’t be in the team. Jill would cook huge dishes of lasagne or paella, and Sherry and Lisa supplied the salads or vegetables, with Ben and their father chipping in with wine or beer. She wondered if they would be
doing this tonight, or would they be too sad to get together?

  I should be going home, she wanted to wail. I should be going home to my family and telling them I’m not dead.

  She scarcely noticed when Dan finally turned into a driveway and parked inside a double garage. When he turned the ignition off, they sat in awkward silence for a few moments, neither one knowing what to say.

  ‘This is it,’ Dan said at last. ‘Home.’

  Lisa didn’t reply.

  After switching on the garage lights and organizing Lisa’s crutches, Dan led the way through a laundry area into the main house, turning on lights as he went.

  In what appeared to be the lounge, he stopped and gestured towards a large, deep sofa upholstered in a rich sky-blue fabric. ‘Have a seat while I bring in the rest of your things. Can you make it down the steps?’

  Lisa looked at the three wide wooden steps leading down into the room and nodded.

  Dan disappeared back out to the garage and returned with her things which he carried through the lounge to the other end of the house.

  Lisa looked about the room curiously. It was decorated with impeccable and expensive taste. The blue sofa had a twin, and two large chairs covered in a blue-and-white-checked fabric occupied opposite corners of the room. Soft peach mohair blankets were draped invitingly across the back of them. A wooden entertainment unit was tucked in a corner beside a fireplace with a marble hearth. A pair of tall, slim black wrought-iron candle-holders topped by fat, round white candles stood at each end of the hearth. More candles in varying sizes were clustered beside them, and a beautiful mirror with a beaten bronze frame hung on the wall above.

  When Dan returned, Lisa was sitting in the middle of the sofa looking out the glass doors that occupied the entire wall facing onto the back garden. A full moon hung low in the sky, spilling a swathe of light across the sparkling darkness of the sea beyond. Lisa realized the house was set up on the cliff overlooking Browns Bay.

  ‘Nice view,’ she remarked politely.

  ‘Yes.’ Dan went to look out the windows, his hands tucked in his trouser pockets. ‘It was the view that made us choose the house.’

  Lisa watched him silently. It was the first time he had mentioned himself and Linda without trying to make it sound as if he meant her. Maybe she was making some progress.

  ‘Are you hungry?’ he asked, turning back to look at her.

  She shrugged. ‘Not especially. I’m knackered more than anything.’

  He looked amused by her choice of words. ‘Do you want to go to bed?’

  Her gaze flew to his face.

  ‘I meant alone,’ he replied quickly.

  ‘I know what you meant,’ Lisa muttered unconvincingly. She sighed. ‘Look, I’m sorry I’ve been such a drama queen.’

  Dan’s eyebrows rose as if she’d made the understatement of the year. ‘Don’t mention it,’ he replied wryly. ‘I enjoy chasing women around the streets of Auckland.’

  Lisa smiled reluctantly. Did anything faze him?

  She looked at the ornate gold clock on the mantlepiece. ‘Oh hell!’

  His eyebrows rose again. ‘What?’

  ‘The game!’ She struggled to her feet, nearly tripping over the glass-topped coffee table in front of her. ‘It’s going to start in a few minutes!’

  ‘The game? You mean the rugby?’

  ‘Yes!’ Lisa cried impatiently. ‘Is that the TV?’ She gestured towards the entertainment centre.

  That was how Lisa spent her first hours in Dan’s house, stretched out on the big blue sofa with one of the mohair rugs over her knees while Dan sprawled in a wing chair by the fireplace. He’d come up with a bowl of potato chips and a can of beer for himself. Lisa eyed it, surprised he hadn’t offered her one. So far he had been the soul of politeness.

  Dan noticed the look she gave his beer and hesitated. ‘Did you…would you like one?’

  He almost dropped the sweaty can when she nodded and said, ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Right,’ he murmured. ‘Right.’ He retraced his steps to the kitchen, feeling utterly bewildered.

  Lisa felt like a social pariah. She would never have picked Dan as a wowser when it came to a woman having a drink, but it showed how little she knew the man. She liked a glass of wine as much as the next girl, but when she was watching rugby she and Sherry usually shared a beer with her brother and father. Their mother only ever drank sherry, and the three children thought this was the reason for Sherry’s name. They were convinced Jill had been legless at her wedding reception and when Sherry turned up almost nine months to the day after the honeymoon, Jill had named the baby after the cause of her downfall. Jill protested it wasn’t true, but Lisa, Sherry and Ben noticed that their father always smirked and refrained from commenting. It was a standing joke in the family. Lisa and Ben always teased Sherry that she should be grateful she hadn’t been named anything worse.

  ‘Just imagine, you could have been Bundaberg if she’d been drinking rum,’ Ben would point out.

  ‘Or Jack Daniels if you’d been a boy,’ Lisa said.

  ‘Johnnie Walker.’

  ‘Remy Martin.’

  ‘Harvey,’ Ben had once suggested.

  ‘Harvey?’ Sherry scoffed.

  ‘Harvey’s Bristol Cream.’

  ‘Hey, Dad? What brand of sherry was Mum drinking at your wedding?’

  ‘I did not get drunk on sherry at my wedding!’ Jill would begin to protest once again.

  Brian always ruined it for her by winking and smiling.

  Sherry largely ignored them, until she’d finally had enough and whacked Ben with a rolled-up newspaper to get him to shut up and threatened to whack Lisa with a rolled-up newspaper if she didn’t shut up too.

  Lisa was deep in thought, a morose expression on her lovely face, when Dan returned. He stood in front of her holding a glass of beer, scowling heavily at her obvious unhappiness and his own inability to find a rational explanation for Linda’s about-turn on alcohol consumption.

  Lisa started when she realized he was standing over her. ‘I’m allowed one, aren’t I?’ she asked uncertainly, searching his face. ‘I mean, it won’t hurt my head or anything, will it?’

  Wordlessly he shook his head and handed over the beer.

  Lisa felt like a kid in trouble with their father. What had she done wrong now? ‘You didn’t need to put it in a glass,’ she said. ‘I don’t mind drinking it out of the can.’

  ‘Of course you don’t.’ Dan snapped before flinging himself into the armchair beside the fireplace. Linking his fingers together he clasped his hands on top of his head and stared morosely at the television.

  The teams were just beginning to run out onto the pitch.

  Lisa fought the urge to stick her tongue out at him.

  Dan sat through the Blues match in shell-shocked silence, feeling increasingly like he was in the middle of some bizarre dream and wondering just when the hell he was going to wake up. He actually spent most of his time watching the woman stretched out on his sofa.

  Linda, or Lisa as she insisted on being called, got right into the game, munching potato chips and polishing off two beers, one straight from the can. She chugged them down like a pro. Dan was relieved when she refused another, saying she only ever had a couple.

  ‘I get drunk easily,’ she explained. ‘Two glasses of wine and I fall asleep.’

  He rubbed a hand across his face, the stubble on his chin rasping against his palm, and swore to himself that if she started belching and smashing beer cans on her forehead, he would load her into the car and take her back to the hospital.

  Then there was the rugby.

  The only time Linda had paid any attention to the sport was when she happened to comment on how muscular the All Blacks were when a game was on television. Dan knew she said things like that to make him jealous, but he’d given up long ago worrying about Linda’s pathetic digs, because frankly he didn’t give a rat’s ass any more what she thought of his body.

&n
bsp; Lisa knew the game. She knew the rules. She howled at the ref for dumb calls. She cringed at a ball knocked forward, and nearly fell off the sofa when a head-high tackle didn’t result in a penalty for the Auckland team.

  ‘Did you see that?’ she yelled at Dan, who had given up pretending to watch the game and had his jaw braced on his fist watching her instead. ‘That was definitely head-high! He should have awarded a penalty! It was right in front of the sticks. Three points missed! You dickhead!’ she yelled at the referee when he came into shot.

  Dan watched her with a mixture of fascination and fear. Who the hell was this woman? She sure as hell wasn’t his wife.

  Lisa misinterpreted his expression as censure for her shouting and bad language. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘I get a bit carried away when I’m watching a game.’

  ‘Uh huh,’ he said.

  Auckland eventually lost to Canterbury.

  Lisa covered her face with her hands and sighed. ‘It must have been the home advantage.’

  ‘They outplayed them, Lin—’

  She dropped her hands and lifted her head to stare at him. ‘We’re not going through all that again, are we?’

  Dan’s jaw ached with tension.

  ‘I’m sorry, Dan,’ she said. She reached for the remote on the table beside her and switched the television off.

  He blinked in surprise. How the hell had she managed that? Everybody knew the guy always got the remote control.

  ‘I can’t pretend to be somebody I’m not and I’m not your wife. I don’t know the first thing about her.’ She paused and frowned. ‘Except she has lots of bottles of shampoo.’

  Dan was completely bewildered by her last comment. ‘That’s insane!’ he snapped at last. ‘You are Linda! Look!’ Reaching behind him to a side table he snatched up a gold-framed wedding photo and stomped over to thrust it at her. ‘There’s one of our wedding photos. It’s you for crissakes!’

  Lisa slowly reached out and took the photograph. It was a shot of him and Linda taken beneath an archway of roses. Dan was wearing a tuxedo and Linda Brogan looked exquisite in an ivory fairytale dress with a tiny little hat fastened to the back of her black hair with a long veil attached. Lisa was taken aback at how young and handsome Dan appeared when compared with how careworn and forbidding he looked now as he stood over her glowering.